Call me a softy, but I want him to be able to walk around.
He just cannot speak.
Oh, and no control over his bowels or bladder. He still has a ravenous appetite, it just goes thru him like grease thru a goose.
No Depends, either…
I really must be a softy. I wish him no physical harm.
Just:
No more haircuts & manicures.
His adult children & their spouses are arrested, tried, convicted & sent to prison.
ALL his assets are siezed.
His domestic hotels are renamed for Obama & turned into low-cost housing/homeless shelters.
Garbage dumps across the country are named for him (even though they serve a useful purpose, unlike their namesake, ‘Trump Dump’ has a nice ring to it).
Angola Prison in Louisiana might be a suitable residence for him. Summers are delightful…
hot, humid, mosquitoes the size of Sparrows; hurricanes every few weeks.
Perhaps we could at least have him lose a dual to the pain. Afterall he is a miserable vomitous mass and a warthog faced buffoon.
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